


gazing up to the breeze of the heavens

by moon_waves



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Cold War, Crossover, Espionage, F/M, Friendship/Love, Red Room (Marvel), Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:13:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22071589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_waves/pseuds/moon_waves
Summary: “His name is Napoleon Solo. He is not your typical American spy. (...) His criminal ingenuity had made headlines all over Europe. The police of four countries created a special task force with the sole purpose of bringing him to justice. And even then,it was luck they caught him. This now infamous story caught the attention of the CIA who recognized that this man’s extraordinary talents would be wasted in jail.”Luckhad nothing to do with Napoleon Solo's unexpected change of career, but he counted himself quiteluckyto have crossed paths with the infamous Black Widow - and remained alive.(An art thief turned CIA agent, a Russian spy of the highest caliber and the Cold War's shadows looming over them.)
Relationships: Natasha Romanov (Marvel)/Napoleon Solo
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	gazing up to the breeze of the heavens

**Author's Note:**

> I went by Napoleon's canon from the movie, and I mixed elements of the comics and the MCU (up until _CATWS_ ) for Natasha. I hope you'll enjoy it!

**1.**

It’s March 1958 when he meets a woman with fire in her hair – actual, _real_ fire, a minuscule candle set ablaze on top of a complicated construction that cannot be described by the name of _bun_ – and almost fails over himself in his attempts to seduce her. He almost misses his sell of the evening as well – thankfully, his target seems more amused than not by his reaction to the woman, and maybe it plays more in his favor than not, but his attention has been captivated.

When he sees her again, three months later, the summer night is young in Vienna, and she doesn’t have fire in her hair anymore – not literal fire, in any case, because she is still a redhead (something that, he will learn, changes frequently enough). This time, he isn’t here for business, and he can talk, and flirt, be a suave and smooth charmer – and it won’t hurt in the slightest.

Or so he thinks, because when he wakes up, she isn’t in his bed anymore, but an armed group of policemen is standing all around the bedframe, their chief managing to look both smug and vaguely jealous of the marks on his skin. It’s only when he ends up in the hands of the CIA, hears the gossip and rumors in the training facility, that he realizes how far he has been played – she was no mere honey-trap, and he somehow manages to be flattered that _she_ dealt with him, rather than someone else.

**2.**

It takes him two years to realize it wasn’t an honor at all, but a punishment for her – being used as a bait for the benefice of the _Americans_ , when she is part of the finest elements of Mother Russia’s counterintelligence.

Somehow, the knowledge only manages to make him insulted on her behalf – and, unbeknownst to him, to forgive her for her part in his capture and subsequent servitude to the CIA.

It burns down every reminding good will he had towards the CIA; and although his leash grows only longer as he becomes one of their finest elements – he is never anything other than the best at what he does, after all, be it pleasuring a woman in bed, talking about art or engaging into espionage – the weight of his collar never lightens.

**3.**

She meets an arrogant playboy in Zürich – but one with conversation and a playful mind, one who pays her the respect she is owed, and she lets herself play with him for some time before her handlers remind her that the assignment is a punishment, not a holiday. In between, she deals with arms dealers in the Balkans, as she is wont to do, and come back to Austria with a sense of relief.

It’s insulting to be used as bait for the Americans – especially when her training usually places her on far more interesting missions – but the target is quite sufferable. Jack Deveny – or Napoleon Solo, as he is truly called, and aren’t Americans strange in their names giving? – is as much a charmer now than he was before, and she indulges into their little game of flirt and passionate conversation before falling into bed with him.

As it rarely happens, this is a man with whom she willingly sleeps – she might even have slept with him if he hadn’t been her target, if he had been a mere collateral note in another of her missions (if there hadn’t been a mission at all, but these times are more than rare) – and it brings her more pleasure than she expected.

He is an attentive and dedicated lover, who knows more about pleasuring a woman than most men his age – or even older, as they usually are more than selfish.

The night is more than well-advanced when she informs her handlers of the success of her mission.

She leaves without regrets nor remorse – only disdain at the Americans’ incapacity at catching an art thief on their own.

**4.**

(She isn’t surprised when the CIA sweeps in and turns the man into a spy – he has wits, he has beauty, he has charm and he has guts. Most of all, he knows his way around weapons, and can fake an identity in less time than it takes to buy a suit. There is _potential_ here, such than wasting it by letting the art thief rot in a prison is nobody’s interests.)

(What surprises her is that her handles agreed to participate in that masquerade – having her play the bait for the European taskforce, only for the Americans to snatch him in the end? Those are not usual Russian methods, but she doesn’t ask.)

(Blackmail goes both ways, after all.)

**5.**

Her sisters from the Red Room come across Solo frequently enough, even though he doesn’t know it most of the time. They all make use of him, one way or another – be it using him as a diversion for an escape, acceding more easily to a target building, or simply occupying the night. For her part, she stays clear.

She wants to know what to make of him, once their paths will cross.

**6.**

In one of those twists destiny is fond of, he meets her again in Berlin days before the Wall is built – an assignment, for the two of them, although they do not have the same target. He is supposed to exfiltrate a scientist defecting from behind the Iron Curtain, while she is here to retrieve sensitive information regarding a western espionage network.

Their paths cross again over dinner in a fancy restaurant in the French sector – he recognizes her at the shape of her mouth, the green of her eyes, and the way her laughter tinkles over a good glass of wine and, meeting her eyes, he knows she had recognized him by the sound of his footsteps as he had walked through the door.

He looks the other way when she collects the last piece of information she was looking for – and she repays him in kind when they come across one another in the crowded streets of Berlin, his scientist trailing after him, giving him just the short head start he needs to make it out of there safely.

**7.**

(The Black Widow. A legend, some said while he was training in the CIA facility. A myth, for others – a tale to both arouse and terrify the new recruits, in his opinion. That’s it, until he meets one of them during his first assignment.

Well, “ _meet_ ” isn’t exactly the right word. He happens to be there while she takes care of business, and he has to admit, he doesn’t even imagine how he could one day reach their level.

There is something eerie about the Russian spy – as if she isn’t quite of this world anymore.

Somehow, it reminds him of the woman with fire in her hair.

For good reason, as he is soon to realize.)

**8.**

Napoleon Solo is too much of a charmer for his own good, everyone can tell you that. Handlers, colleagues, acquaintances – on both sides of the Iron Curtain – and even enemies. (Those who are still alive to talk, of course.)

It is a weakness, one easy to play on – at least until he meets Illya Kuryakin who, in a move that baffles colleagues and acquaintances alike, decides to have his back.

No one ever counts on the tiny German lady who appears around them.

At first, anyway.

**9.**

Nature abhors a vacuum – this is a lesson that was engrained in Natasha in her youth, in the early days in the Red Room, and nothing she had seen ever since made her change her mind on the topic. And the human nature is no different – people will look for companionship in the strangest places, no matter their lines of work.

Espionage is no different.

The bond between the graduates of the Red Room is an unbreakable one – and one that their handlers hadn’t counted on. Of course, they’re kept apart from one another more often than not, but they still meet every now and then. Catching up.

Exchanging information.

There is kinship that cannot be annihilated here.

She isn’t surprised to learn about the existence of the UNCLE taskforce – she had heard of what happened in Rome (everybody had, in their little world, some people being more well-informed than others), of its aftermath – and vaguely follows their missions from afar.

The German girl is interesting, and she is curious enough to see how far she will go, before that dark, cold universe spits her out.

The human nature is always so full of surprises.

Kuryakin is a KGB agent, with everything that it entails – the training, the prowess, and the utter loyalty that is given to so few people. To find it bestowed on Napoleon Solo does not get her to raise her eyebrows – the man has _ethics_ , and isn’t fond of the CIA. Somehow, this is a pair that works.

None of their handlers are too happy about this _fraternization_ , but no one can say anything about the results it brings.

(Let them squabble – the Red Room has more freeway to work in the shadows.)

**10.**

Had the circumstances been any different, Napoleon would have dealt with the situation on his own – but this is Peril, and this is the KGB, and this is Russia.

Waverly is, for once, out of reach, and Gaby is on her own in South America.

He has to do that by himself – can’t count on the CIA, especially not on Sanders, who has taken to tug rather forcefully at his leash in the recent months, every time he stepped out of line.

He can’t give up on Peril – can’t let him in the hands of the KGB without doing anything.

Without _trying_.

Getting behind the Iron Curtain on his own had been complicated enough, and stepping into Russia even more, but once he’s there, he doesn’t know what to do.

Where to start.

(Actually, he an idea.)

(One.)

(And he honestly doesn’t know what the answer will be, but after weighing his options, he finds that he doesn’t have any other choice.)

(Peril’s life is at stake, after all.)

**11.**

Nature abhors a vacuum, and Natasha appreciates loyalty when she sees it.

She can also appreciate a man humbling himself and asking for her help when it puts him at risk, ready and willing to pay the price.

Knowing that she could call a debt at any given time in the future.

(Napoleon Solo is an antiquities dealer, a charmer, an art thief, and one of the best spies on the other side of the Iron Curtain.)

(She doesn’t regret her involvement in bringing him into the shadows of espionage.)

(But those particular circumstances make it easier for her to agree to his plea for help.)

(Her sisters laugh at her, but don’t try to stop her – cultivating alliances is something they all learned to do after having left the Red Room.)

(There are far more shades of grey in their world than their instructors ever taught them.)

**12.**

He is indebted to a Russian spy and he cannot regret it. Oh, Napoleon knows that _his_ life will be used as payment, at some point in the future, one way or another, but he has made his peace with it.

Peril’s life was worth it.

**13.**

Natasha doesn’t know if a life debt is a good foundation to built a friendship on, but a decade after having met Napoleon Solo, and after years of coming across one another during their missions, it looks like they have grown past being acquaintances.

They’re not colleagues – can’t be colleagues, not when she works in the deep seas of espionage and he remains at ground level, civilians blissfully ignorant of their existence – but they are something other.

Something different.

(And this is not about the fact that they fall in bed more often than not when they come across on another – _this_ has been happening since she first ran into Solo. She is no stranger to physical attraction, and no one bats an eye at that kind of encounter, as long as the job is done without turning into a defector.)

The seventies are a busy decade, and Napoleon doesn’t comment on the fact that she doesn’t age – that she has barely changed since the day they met, when he bears quite handsomely the weight of the years.

**14.**

The UNCLE taskforce is called more and more intermittently during the eighties, and Napoleon knows what this means. Oh, he might refuse it – _Peril_ might refuse it – but they both know that the world has changed.

That the alliance they were incarnating does not have a _raison d’être_ anymore.

There are too many troubles behind the Iron Curtain for the URSS to remain as it had been for so long.

Natasha – Natalie Rushman, _Natalia Romanova_ – knows it too. She knows which way the wind blows, and they come across less frequently in this decade as well, something he regrets.

She is the woman who brought him into this world and he hasn’t stopped admiring her since the first day. She is the reason why he became a spy – and one of the reasons why he enjoyed it. Life as an antiquities dealer – as an art theft – wouldn’t have been the same, and although his risked his life far more working for the CIA than on his own, somehow, somehow…

Somehow, he doesn’t regret it.

And, when 1984 comes around, he isn’t surprised when she says goodbye.

For a long time now, he has known she wasn’t quite an ordinary woman – closer to the ushered whispers of his training days than to a woman of Gaby’s caliber. Still, it never ceases to surprise him to see her so similar to the memories of his youth when he knows he has grown old.

Still charming, still a charmer, but older now.

**15.**

It’s 1989 when they meet again, across the ruins of the Berlin Wall – and Natasha has rebuilt herself from the ground up. She is a KGB agent by now – one who has got the attention of SHIELD, but Director Carter won’t do anything about it.

Not yet.

(As far as the West knows, the Red Room has disappeared, and the KGB is handling its operatives now. Moscow snickers at that, but keeps its cards close to its chest.)

Napoleon, though – Napoleon is a different matter. This isn’t even about the CIA, this time: this is about what they built over three decades, including two decades of more-or-less partnership.

Of friendship.

There is no point nor need in saying goodbye then. He is a perceptive man, and leaves her be with her secrets – he has words enough for the two of them.

This time, they both know they’re likely not to meet again. He is to remain stationed in Berlin for a long time, as a sleeper agent.

Jack Deveny, antiquities dealer, finally at home, to watch over the German reunification that is bound to happen now. There are worst ways to finish a career – deadlier ones, more dishonorable ones. This one will be quiet, but still with an eye to the East.

To the great Russian threat.

Where the possibility of another meeting lies.

**16.**

It takes almost fifteen years for them to meet again and by that time Napoleon has finally made his peace with the fact that he fell in love with a woman with fire in her hair – and never fell out of love. He doesn’t know if his feelings are returned – or were, for a time – and it doesn’t even matter anymore. His love has accompanied him for most of his life, his friendship with Peril his only other _truthful_ long-lasting relationship.

What they had spread over decades, and they’re still alive – and on good terms, or at least were, when they parted ways. He counts his blessings, in a way he tends to do more and more these days, as so many people from his past – from his life – start to die.

This is natural: spies usually don’t lead old lives, and those who survived are reaching an age where natural death is – well, natural.

As a parting gift, Sanders let him stay in Berlin, and now he has almost forgotten what it means to be Napoleon Solo, CIA agent. He is Jack Deveny, antiquities dealer, a frequent speaker at the University of Berlin, a guest of honor in many conferences and receptions. Somehow, he feels quite fulfilled.

Only missing old friends.

**17.**

The passing of years weights only in her mind, in her memories. Her face has barely changed – and Napoleon tells her as such when they meet again, as if five years had gone by, rather than five decades.

(She knows where that comes from – now knows how much she was experimented on, in the Red Room. Has been able to go through the files, in the last decade. The KGB had been slightly sloppier than her previous handlers, and she and her sisters had been able to get their hands on much needed information.)

Napoleon, on the other hand – he has aged. She knows women his age find him handsome – she had seen the looks, while they were having brunch together – and everyone thinks her to be his granddaughter. It has her laughing slightly, although with some sort of melancholy. They shared the major part of their lives, after all, even though she was born a few years before him.

Her new partner doesn’t share her kind of life experiences – even though Barton is a story of his own, despite his youth.

Only her sisters from the Red Room remain, untouched by the passing of time, as she is – and all of them having broken free from their chains.

They have gone into hiding, for the most part – a good spy is a hidden one, and a great spy is one that remains _alive_.

Napoleon’s mind is still sharp – for a man of his age – and they both know he is still a sleeper agent.

Their allegiances never stopped them from being friends, and it still doesn’t, now.

**18.**

He starts getting an inkling of what might have happened to Natasha when news about Captain America’s _reappearance_ surface. By that point, he is retired from espionage – he and Illya and Gaby, although the three of them still meet to talk, mostly about the good old days, in a different city of Europe each time.

They have all grown _old_ , and know they must enjoy the years that remain. Their world is gone – the world of their youth – but it does not mean they are entirely out of place now.

(It is easier for him to say that than for his old comrades, but Gaby never went back to Germany after they met. Peril was the one who had the most difficulties to adjust – but it was a major change for all three of them.)

(Still. Aliens. In New York. Who could have thought?)

**19.**

The Winter Soldier is a surprise – but the fact that Natasha’s life has been kept out of SHIELD’s files is a bigger one. Experimenting on humans crosses every line he thought had remained – but then, he remembers the War, and wonders why he is surprised. He had seen the worst mankind has to offer over the years – but maybe there is a part of him that remained full of optimism, no matter what.

Peril isn’t here anymore to talk about that development – only Gaby remains, but she, strangely enough, has never crossed paths with Natasha, so he is alone with his questions and theories.

(Or so he thinks.)

(So he thinks.)

**20.**

She brings roses to Napoleon’s tomb. Yelena is waiting for her in another alley, standing under the branches of a tree, trying to disappear under the shade. The summer’s heat is almost unbearable, but Natasha ignores it, looking at the marble without seeing it. She hasn’t been able to say goodbye, this time – had barely taken the time to come and say hello, after the fall of SHIELD, without knowing that this would be the last time they would talk.

Her mind flies back to the decades they shared – when she watched him from afar, a blip on her radar, and then their meetings during the sixties, careful and tentative, until he had come to her for help, and she had let her walls down, a little.

Friendship with another spy – and love thrown in it, and she hasn’t regretted it one bit.

No, she hasn’t.

In a twist of fate, what had been intended as a punishment had become a silver lining in the shadows of espionage.

This is one more string to her past that disappeared, and only a few people can understand that loss – intimately understand it.

Yelena can – hence her presence today, watching her back.

The operatives of the Red Room, still sticking together, after all these years.

Free, at last.

Who could have thought?

**Author's Note:**

> I would absolutely love to know your thoughts on that story please 🙏


End file.
